


The Depth of Water

by Skilley



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Background Orange Side (Sanders Sides), Cross-Posted on Amino, Dark Fantasy, Dark Sides As Family (Sanders Sides), Gen, Implied Kidnapping, Not Beta Read, Octopus Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sirens, Unsympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), We die like my motivation to write, actor thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28075221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skilley/pseuds/Skilley
Summary: Thomas' life was like walking in a dream. But sometimes your dreams aren't what you'd thought they'd be. Sometimes, you need to wake up.Dark Fantasy Experimental thing about SirensTW: Insinuated mentions of kidnapping or death (not explicit), someone is restrained(This has some horror elements to it, but nothing super gory or graphic violence)http://aminoapps.com/p/jn30x73
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	The Depth of Water

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to read the TW!!! 
> 
> Written for an Amino Challenge

A man was walking down the side street of a modern town, looking around avidly though his mind wandered elsewhere. He was of average height, just below six foot, and of a stockier build though he wasn’t overly muscular. In light of the summer heat, he wore an orange crop top and shorts with several colorful bracelets adorning his wrists. A mockingbird sung on his lower right arm, the ink glistening in the sun that reflected across his slightly-damp skin.

Today was the day, he thought to himself. Thomas was an actor, or at least he aspired to be, and today was the day he’d get the results of his latest audition. He had been auditioning for a while, for small and leading roles in a variety of musicals and dramas, but he had never been accepted. 

“You were good! Really good!” They’d say on a good day. “But you just weren’t what we were looking for.”

Or on bad days, his anxiety would make him freeze or stutter or crack notes, and he’d have to smile and walk off in a facade of confidence, trying his hardest not to waver at the pitying or unimpressed stares of his examiners. Those days were the hardest, but as an actor he was determined to deal with it. Failure was a part of the job.

But this audition was different. The producer of the show was world renowned, and it was predicted to be a hit with audiences young and old. It would be his break, and he had poured his heart and soul into practicing.

He had added dynamics and style to every note, micromanaged his facial expressions to be the epitome of emotion, and spent hours working until he even dreamt about the script. When the day arrived, he was ready. 

The role suited him too, he’d like to think. The character was a man named Calisto, a young adult just out of a gap year after high school and ready to pursue his higher education. He was nice and friendly, and seemed to make friends wherever he went.

Despite his social nervousness, Thomas was always introducing himself and making conversation with everyone he met. That’s how he met his roommate, another thespian who had happened to be volunteering at the same community service drive.

His now-roommate’s name was Roman, and he had been the star of the town’s community theatre for years. He’d been in several major shows, and had offers and roles being thrown at him left and right. 

Roman had just moved into a floor apartment when they’d met, half belonging to two other men and his side in need of another patron. The baker and teacher of the other half were an odd match, seemingly like complete opposites at first glance, but when Thomas met them the next day he found they were surprisingly compatible and entertaining to be around.

They kept in touch, and when the other three offered to him a few weeks later Thomas decided to move in. Surrounded by Disney serenades, pleasant conversation, and the occasional movie night, Thomas was content.

Roman had congratulated him on getting the audition, but oddly enough he never really seemed too enthused when Thomas gushed over the role, and as Roman’s acting took up more and more time Thomas was left to eat dinner alone most nights.

He found it odd at first that Roman was so eager about his own acting, but made weird facial expressions when Thomas wanted to perform for him. It was almost as though the other was trying to hide something from him, though he couldn’t find it in himself to question the other too much. It just wasn’t in his nature.

But that was okay, his roommate had every right to have weird quirks. Anyways, Thomas had aced his audition! Though he had almost been late for his train and was a bit flustered, everything seemed to slip into place the second he stepped onstage. His every movement was flawless, and his voice was perfectly in tune.

He had been humming one of the show tunes as he walked the streets, but he cut himself off suddenly and blinked. Lost in thought and excitement, he had managed to distract himself from where exactly he was walking, and now he was surrounded by dark trees.

Shrugging, his countenance floating in the clouds, he decided to continue on and explore the path in the forest ahead of him. He didn’t like conflict, but he thirsted for adventure. For a second, he pondered the fact that his town wasn’t near any woods, being very suburban and industrialized, but the thought slipped away like all his other worries. Today was just too good a day.

Instead, curiosity bubbled forth as he continued down the path, the ground sloping downwards slowly and the tree canopy casting him in shadow. It was beautiful in a natural sort-of way, thick vines and aged wood, the scent of wet earth calming him as he pleasurably strolled.

After a minute or two, or some other amount of time because he really couldn’t really tell right now, he came to a giant rock face. It was some sort of dark grey stone, and his eyes were drawn to a small opening, just as big as a doorway. While the exterior of the rock was jagged and natural, the opening was smooth and polished looking, like an antique tea kettle.

He moved to enter the cave, not having to look down and watch his step, as his body seemed to instinctively know how to move forward. His feet splashed as he entered, and he didn’t hesitate to continue despite the inch-or-so of water that coated the inside.

The inside of the cave was as smooth as the doorway, and the passageway was narrow. Something inside him felt at home, familiar, and despite the small space he didn’t feel trapped or claustrophobic. 

As he wandered farther, he became aware of two things.

The first was the light source that penetrated the darkness deeper inside the cave, seated deep within the walls. There were three main colors: a soft lavender, a deep green, and a faded golden light, and they mixed and blended where the rays reflected off the walls.

A muted memory surfaced in his brain, of a book he had read years ago. He couldn’t concentrate enough to tell when he had read it, or where, or what it was called, but he recalled its contents impeccably. It was about the light sources in the walls, but he didn’t think they usually were supposed to glow. 

The purple was from amethyst, a gemstone that symbolizes personal satisfaction, being content with your personal and professional life. The green was from the classic emerald, connected to fame, fortune, and the need to be recognized. The golden tone, on the other hand, was from a much less common gem known as tiger’s eye, for those who yearned for confidence and a life free from worry or anxiety. 

That last one he definitely empathized with, he thought.

The second thing he had noticed, however, was even more beautiful than the gemstones. Ringing in his ears, bouncing off the walls and seeming to thread through his entire chest, was music.

There were no instruments, just voices that seemed too perfect to be real, and there were no words. But somehow the melody penetrated deep inside his core, caressing his heart. Emotions leaked through the notes, filling him with both a bitter happiness and an overwhelming sense of fond nostalgia.

It was a song that spoke of his past, understanding all that he had gone through and the trials he had faced. It was a song that he was attuned to in the present, matching his every emotion and guiding his thoughts as he continued forward. It was a song that promised him a future, and he could feel the joy of being on the stage, telling a story that touched thousands and made others truly  _ feel _ .

He felt like crying, like laughing, like collapsing into a pure ball of emotion, but he couldn’t bear to. All he could do was keep moving forward, being drawn in by the crooning notes.

Soon, or immediately, or after years and years, the cave opened into a giant chamber. 

A stone pathway spanned its circumference, the water flowing over his feet leading into a deep pool that flooded the interior of the room. The water was a mix of blue and purple and green, dark as a starless night and yet gleaming brightly like the northern lights. 

Somewhere inside of himself, he was aware that there was something in its depths, something beneath the beautiful water that’s presence was overwhelming his consciousness. But rather than search the inky liquid, his eyes were drawn to the stone island in the exact center of the room, or rather, what it supported.

These were the artists, the musicians who were singing the most beautiful of songs. He stepped into the room fully, and their eyes turned to face him.

The smallest lay toward the center of the stone island. He looked over his right shoulder at Thomas, back on display and patterned with yellow markings that glowed softly in the dim lighting. But as his eyes travelled to take in more, he realized that the man was perhaps not a man at all.

His forearms were ridged in purple spiked fins, and his fingers were tipped in spikes rather than blunt nails. From his waist down his skin faded into dark purple scales, and where his feet should’ve been were caudal fins. 

He looked at Thomas with big purple eyes, wide and innocent looking, and where he sang big fang-like teeth poked out from his lips.

Next to him was a bigger… creature, its mass taking up a good portion of the rock. Also male, he seemed older, or maybe more weathered than the other, scars showing up starkly against his pale skin. His upper half was adorned in paraphernalia, Thomas able to make out a thick net and the sharp points of a spear and hooks. 

Rather than scales and fins, his lower half was a mass of limbs, green and spotted tentacles that seemed to be in constant motion, shifting slimily over each other. His brown hair was covered by a crown, which disturbingly seemed to be made of tiny bones.

He too was singing, a sort-of crooning sound that sent a tingle up Thomas’ spine. It was a hollow sound, beautiful in a wonky, broken way. 

The last eluded him at first, creeping through the water with a grace that made him almost completely silent. He couldn’t see him completely, but his top half made him seem to be between the sizes of the other two, except extra-long.

His torso and arms stretched along in the water, yellow-green scales stretching behind him for meters. As he spun in the water, red lines stuck out on his skin, like lightning strikes painted on a flesh canvas.

Hair darker than the other two’s was pulled back into a bun, fringe hanging longer on one side. His eyes were sharp and calculated, but a glimmer of something like hope sparkled behind his irises. The notes he added to the melody seemed the loneliest, somehow. 

A merman, an octopus, and an eel. Well... sort of.

Thomas swallowed, and the purple one slowly decrescendoed, tilting its head at him. 

“Who are you?” His voice was lower than the notes he had been singing, but with a soft undertone that Thomas found inviting.

“My name is Thomas!” He choked out, voice carrying in the cave and seeming out of place. “Your um —, your singing is beautiful. This entire place is stunning, actually.”

The other raised up more, palms against the stone to elevate him, and a lopsided smile tilted its way across his lips. 

“Thanks! My br—” His enthusiastic tone cut off and gave way to something softer, sadder. “The song was written by someone a long time ago...”

A feeling of uncertainty still lingered in the back of his mind, but Thomas couldn’t help but let sympathy soften his eyes. He was a people person, and he knew instinctively what type of sadness the other exhibited. 

“You lost someone, didn’t you?”

The other didn’t answer, glancing away from his eyes and singing once more. A tentacle lightly flopped over the violet scales, and it was the green one who answered.

“You can’t call it a loss if the players are still playing the game!” He cackled lightly but continued the song, and Thomas’ face screwed up in confusion.

“Game?” He questioned.

“Ignore him,” The long one cut in, still slipping around in the water. “There is nothing we can do.”

His dark eyes narrowed at the octo-limbed man, before flicking back to Thomas with a sigh.

“Why have you come here, human? Have you come to hunt us?”

“No!” Thomas waved his hands in front of him frantically. “Of course not! I just ended up here, somehow, I actually have no idea where I am— and I couldn’t help but look for the source of the melody.”

As his arms waved, purple eyes suddenly locked onto his forearm and a gasp resounded. The swimming continued as an apathetic look was thrown his way by the eel, but the merman had nudged the other on the island, and now both were staring at his arm.

Thomas shifted when he noticed their gazes, nervous tittering bouncing off the cave walls. The third turned on his back in the water, watching his kin in question.

“Human— Thomas? What is that on your arm? What is it?” The enthusiasm was back, but the merman’s eyes gave away an uncertain slip of hope.

“Huh?” Thomas looked at his own arm. “Oh! It’s a mockingbird. I got it tattooed years ago, but it’s always stayed dark so I’ve been lucky to never have to re-ink it. You like it?”

The small one nodded, eyes locked onto the ink. His back patterning now seemed to almost pulse with light. The smooth one stopped in the water, ever-gracefully whipping around and to look as well.

“There’s no way! Not after all these years…” He shook his head, but the tentacled one also turned to him, eyes bright and broken.

“But he bears the mark! There’s a chance!”

“Wait, what’re you talking about?” Thomas interrupted and looked at his arm, then at each of them in turn.

“My— our kin, he’s been trapped.” The purple one spoke up, eyes becoming distant and hopeful. “He’s been gone for so long, we’d given up on finding the savior. But… You have the mark. The same one on the gate.”

Thomas’ eyes widened. This was just like in one of his Disney movies, though he had no idea what this “gate” was. He had grown up wanting to be a prince, a hero, and now he could help these people! He could get their family back!

“What do I have to do? How can I help?” He stepped forward again, on the edge of the water.

“We don’t know if you can!” The dark-haired one’s tail slashed through the water, agitated. “Just because you have a matching insignia, we can’t guarantee—”

“Let me try!” Thomas cut him off. “I’ve always had a feeling that I was meant for something special. Maybe that something is freeing your kin, helping you. At least let me try, what harm could it do?”

The eel looked troubled, looking to the pleading purple and agonized greenish eyes of the other two. He took a deep breath before meeting Thomas’ gaze again, irises seeming to gleam with hesitant determination and he inclined his head.

Without any sort of signal, the three began singing again, instantly in sync and harmonized. As their eyes all slipped closed, something seemed to shift and the rock of the cave began to tremble.

Thomas braced himself by sliding a foot back, hands out for balance, and his eyes widened as a pathway rose from the depths of the inky water, connecting the edge and the island.

The two on the rock slipped into the water without so much as a splash, and the island broke apart as a new one arose. Upon it was a giant set of double-doors that rose almost to the ceiling. They were carved intricately, the dark surfaces covered in symbols and runes, and where the handles should’ve been was a glowing orange mockingbird that perfectly matched his tattoo.

Without prompting, Thomas stepped forward as though the gate was pulling him, his companions watching and singing a melody that seemed to fade into the background. 

Soon he stood directly in front of the symbol, heat coming from it as though it was lava or a sun heating the air. He reached out with his left hand, fingertips an inch away from the surface when slight discoloration on his wrist caught his eye and he froze.

It was the tiniest of bruises, barely noticeable, but his mind was triggered and memories flooded to the forefront of his mind. 

The weather was beautiful on the day of his big audition, and he had gotten distracted by it. He got distracted often, but this time he shouldn’t have been. His watch beeping drew him out of it, and he realized that he should’ve already arrived at the station. 

Only in shape for the stage, he was completely out of breath by the time he made it to his train’s platform, chest heaving and complexion probably red. Luckily, he would have the train ride to recover and fix his appearance.

He hurried toward the train doors which were just beginning to open, when something caught his eye.

There was a girl standing on the outskirts of the platform, wide eyes meeting his. She was cute, curly blonde hair held back by an orange bandana and dark blue eyes framed by dark, full eyelashes.

But something in her irises struck him, and he paused. She wasn’t alone, he noticed, a large, buff man standing beside her with a leather-clad hand upon her shoulder. The man wasn’t looking toward where Thomas stood, his attention taken up by a disposable cell phone in his other hand. 

It hit him then, her expression, as though he had been slapped in the face. She was terrified. Though her body didn’t show any signs of stiffness and her posture was relaxed, her hands shook by her sides and her water line was shining as though she was about to burst into tears. 

His heart clenched instinctively, and he started towards her, watching the blue of her eyes light up in hope. He started to let his best reassuring smile slip onto his face, when an announcement echoed around the station.

_ “Last call for the west train. Last call. Please board.” _

He jerked into a stop. If he missed the train, there was no way he could make it to the audition, and there was no second chance. If he missed it, there was no trying again. If he missed it, he was done. 

The large man snapped his phone shut and started pulling the girl away from the platform, toward the exit of the station, and her eyes seemed to scream at him.

Overwhelmed, he panicked and only caught a glimpse of her heart shattering as he turned away on his heel. Sprinting onto the train, he bumped his left wrist into the doors, making it just in time as they closed behind him.

The bruise didn’t hurt, and the incident had escaped his mind. It shook him as he flashed back, chest tightening. He snapped back into reality.

Wait a minute. Wait. Where was he? What was he doing with a bunch of fantasy demon-creatures in a weird underground cave? How did he even get here?

He spun around.

The beautiful song had morphed into something horrible, and now he covered his ears as guttural screeching like something from the underworld bounced off the walls around him.

It was too much. The agonizing sound, the confusion, the memory and guilt he had tried to forget.

“ _ STOP!”  _ He screamed.

The creatures fell silent and he let his hands drop to his sides. He was shaking now. The three stayed in the water, barely visible as they circled him. His breathing sped up at the realization that he was surrounded, his anxiety kicking back in.

He counted his breath in a 4-7-8 pattern that he’d seen his neighbor do, and tried to rationalize. 

He didn’t know where he was, or how he’d gotten there. He was surrounded by some liquid that couldn’t possibly be water, by creatures that couldn’t possibly exist. There had to be an explanation. 

It came to him abruptly.

“I’m dreaming…” He whispered, giggling softy to himself in hysteria. “I’m such an airhead! Of course I’m dreaming...”

He began to pace around the island, examining his arms in wonder, trying to will them into wings or something cool like he’d seen in movies.

Lucid dreaming. He had read about it online and seen videos, but he hadn’t done the steps to actually try it himself. But somehow he had manifested in this dream-turned-nightmare, and there should be some way for him to control it or wake up. 

He focused and flexed his fingers, bouncing up and down on his heels.

“Alright Thomas. You can do this. Wake. Up.” He slapped himself in the face lightly.

“This isn’t a dream.” The small merman cut in and peered up at him from the water, voice light and innocent. “We need you. You can’t leave now!”

He pouted, and tilted his head when Thomas ignored him. The elongated one laughed sardonically, splashing water at Thomas’ legs to get his attention.

“Dear, dear Thomas,” He crooned. “I knew you were unintelligent, but you can’t simply ignore what your mind is telling you! Look around you, this is a Hell you created.”

Thomas stopped his concentrating in confusion, trepidation trickling in the back of his mind. 

“What do you mean? This is just some weird thing my subconscious decided to create. Even _ you _ are just imaginary.”

“Thomas, it’s real. You’re here for a reason. You left that girl, and now you must make up for it. Open the gate.”

“What?” Thomas stepped back, shaking his head. “That was just some random person I made eye contact with in the subway. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Didn’t mean anything?!” The big one cackled from somewhere behind him. “You fool. You left her to DIE!”

Thomas yelped at the other’s exclamation, its tentacles coming out of the water, winding around him like a whip until he could barely move. He struggled, feeling slime seep into his clothes and exposed skin.

“She didn’t die, that’s crazy! And it wasn’t any of my business, I had somewhere to be!”

“But why didn’t you help her? You could’ve told someone and still made it to the train in time. You didn’t have to leave her!” The purple one pouted from the water.

“She’s probably fine! It isn’t my job to help everyone I see, and I probably just misread her face!” Thomas shouted, his binds tightening as he struggled.

“Oh really? And what happened to the hero, huh? What happened to ‘ _ I was meant for something specia _ l’? What happened to being a good person?” The long one still circled the island, the emphasis of his voice mocking.

“I AM a good person.” He looked down in guilt. “It was one time! One time where I put myself first, where I decided to be me before being the good guy. There’s nothing wrong with that!”

“Sure, sure. You left someone helpless so you could go fail  _ another  _ audition.” His tail flicked.

“What?” Thomas’ head snapped up again. “I aced that audition! This is going to be my break.”

“It saddens me that you think that. You were never meant to be on the stage. Why do you think you’ve failed so many times? It’s time you stayed down, where you belong. You can still watch plays without ruining them.”

“How dare you!” Thomas snarled.

The tentacled creature laughed again, and this time the purple giggled with him. The circling one only smirked, amused at Thomas’ denial.

“Your roommate, now  _ he’s  _ an actor. He may try to be polite, but there’s a reason he never wants to rehearse with you. It must be hard to sit through such a  _ dreadful  _ performance.”

“Don’t bring him into this!” Thomas snapped, though wondering how the creature knew about his roommate and everything else in his life. In the moment he didn’t care that he was arguing with his subconscious, emotion taking over logic. 

“Still don’t believe me?” He glided until his torso was on the island, his tail extending far behind him in the water. 

The other two were both somewhere behind Thomas now, and he could only focus on the dark eyes of the creature facing him. 

Long fingers flicked up, suddenly holding a piece of printer paper bearing a familiar symbol. Thomas’ eyes widened, recognizing the agency.

“My acceptance letter?” He questioned.

“Your…  _ results _ .” He frowned for a moment and sighed. “Maybe this will get through to you.”

He tossed the paper, and it floated suspended in front of Thomas, slowly unfolding until the words were clearly visible. Excited, Thomas began reading, ready to show up this weird nightmare.

But… he couldn’t believe it. His— How— There was no way he could’ve…

It was in that moment that reality sunk in, and he broke. His head lolled forward in defeat, and he stopped struggling against the tentacles, stopped trying to wake up. 

“Good. Accept it. Your only purpose is to unlock the gate. This is the one good thing you actually  _ can  _ do.”

Thomas didn’t struggle as he was pulled backward and manipulated to touch the insignia. He didn’t flinch away from the bright flash or cringe as the screeching song started up again. He didn’t try to wake up, to save himself from the nightmare.

Maybe the nightmare wasn’t just a dream. Maybe This messed up, worthless  _ lie  _ was reality. And maybe… just maybe… he was okay with that.

Closing his eyes, he relaxed and went back to sleep. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Not sure what to say about this, but feedback is heavily appreciated!!!


End file.
